Hold Me Down
by Lucy'sDaydreams
Summary: Found a prompt list that had 64 prompts, added five more to make it 69. Just couldn't resist! All kinds of tomfoolery going on here. Inspired by AmyCoolz' Slash100s with Spock/Kirk. Let's beat writer's block, yeah? M for inevitable slash.
1. Prompt 16: Rip

A/N: So, here's my first ever prompt list situation, here. Not restricted in length, though they probably won't be longer than a page or two; so roughly like, max. 800 words. But hey, I dunno. I'm attempting to dash my writer's block to bits, I know some people may be waiting on my other Shwatsonlock story. To you all, I apologize profusely. Blame this writer's block. Blame it all day!

I don't own Sherlock Holmes or any related characters. If I did, there would be entire live-action pornographies starring these two. Not kidding.

**Prompt 16: Rip**

"Holmes! Damn it, Holmes!" Watson stomped into Holmes' quarters angrily, holding the pieces of his favorite shirt in his hands. Holmes was nowhere to be found. Watson yelled again. "Holmes! Where are you?"

A muffled thump came from the bathroom, then a stifled curse. Watson kicked the door open to find Holmes trying to crawl into the cupboard under the sink. Holmes looked at him guiltily, and then attempted nonchalance. "Oh, hello, Doctor. How- How are you?"

"Holmes. What. Did. You. Do. To. My. Shirt?" Watson practically _growled_ at Holmes. Holmes studied the ceiling thoughtfully, screwing his face up.

"I can't seem to recall old boy. So sorry to disappoint. Now, if you please, I have business to attend to; if you would be so kind as to shut the door on your way out I'd be forever indebted."

Watson just stood there, glaring at Holmes. Holmes pretended not to notice and pulled his pipe out of his pocket. He rummaged around for a match, looking everywhere except at Watson. Watson finally had enough and lunged at Holmes.

"Dear God, man!" Holmes shouted as Watson grabbed him by his collar and threw him to the ground. "My Lord, you're like an animal, Watson!" Watson beat Holmes about his head and face with his balled up shirt.

"Down, boy!" Holmes tried to hit him but Watson was having none of it. Grabbing Holmes' hands, Watson pinned him down, splaying himself on top of Holmes. Their chests heaved as they glared at each other.

"Animalistic brute."

"Insufferable bastard."

Holmes pushed Watson off of him easily. "Really, Watson. If you are regularly in the habit of tackling people to the ground and beating them with your torn articles of clothing, you really should never have become a doctor."

Watson leaned against the wall, still catching his breath. "Sod off, Holmes."

"Mm." Holmes got up nimbly, not even breathing hard. "Very well. I'll go." He was almost at the door when he paused. "Oh, Watson. One thing?" Holmes reached down, grasped the collar of Watson's shirt, and wrenched it upwards until it ripped off. He threw it down on Watson's lap and positively fled the room, cackling hysterically.

_God damn that man. _Watson slammed his head against the wall and closed his eyes. _Fucking Holmes._

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Not gonna lie, I lol'd when Holmes is calling Watson an animal. I'm like, "Damn right he is, Holmes. DAMN RIGHT." XD

Listening to: Demi Lovato's "Don't Forget" ...to review. ;D


	2. Prompt 6: Seize the day

A/N: Got a couple reviews, encouraged me to write another after a night of idle partying. Happy Caturday, world!

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**6. Seize the day**

Watson thought it was entirely safe to say that he was drunk. Quite smashed, in fact. And, judging by the way Holmes was weaving in and out of the tables, chairs, and stacks of books he had arranged in some semblance of a city, Holmes was also incredibly drunk.

"Waston. Schwatson. _Watson,_" Holmes finally managed, lips wrapped around the bottle of alcohol dangling from his fingers. "Watson. Imagine this. This city here-" Long fingers gesticulated towards the chaos in the center of the room. "This city here is being ravished by a creature of gargantuan proportions. A giant reptile bent on destruction, releasing hellfire from his scaly jaws and kicking with his monstrous—"

Holmes paused, and hiccuped. His face screwed up like he was trying to remember what he was talking about. "—foot," he finished lamely.

Watson stared at him for a moment. Laughter bubbled up in his chest and he chuckled hysterically. "That beast is ravishing a city? Holmes, _ravishing?_"

Holmes peered at him unsteadily. "What's— why so condescending? What's wrong with the phrasing I used?"

Watson bent the bottle in his fist towards his mouth, spilling most of it on his chin and cheek. "Holmes, Holmes, Holmes." He struggled to his feet, still chuckling. "It sounds— It sounds like he's is going to make the beast with two backs with the city. I think you mean— meant, mean?— meant ravaged."

They stared at each other.

At the same moment they burst out laughing, Holmes falling sideways onto an unsteady stack of books wobbling dangerously under his weight, Watson pitching forwards onto him and holding Holmes' shoulder for support. Suddenly the stack of books gave way and they tumbled sideways, yelling drunkenly.

Holmes landed on his back, Watson on top of him. Watson distantly noticed how nice the skin of Holmes' throat felt against his lips. "Holmes," he giggled. _Dear God, _Watson thought. _I've actually just giggled._ "Holmes, we fell." His lips brushed against Holmes' throat as he spoke, and he felt Holmes shudder and then laugh, trapped under Watson's mouth. "Yes, my dear doctor. We've fallen."

Watson lifted his head up and looked at Holmes, blinking to focus on him blearily. "We've fallen," he repeated seriously. Holmes met his gaze silently, half-smile on his face slowly fading.

Watson studied Holmes' face. He saw the bob of his Adam's apple, the smooth way it slid down underneath his skin almost to the hollow of his throat, and then abruptly flicked back up to where it belonged. He noted the stubble on Holmes' face scratching his own, and he rubbed his cheek against Holmes' like a cat.

Holmes made a surprised noise, but didn't move. Watson brushed his own stubble over Holmes' face, mustache prickling its way up until his lips were right next to Holmes' mouth. Holmes' lips were parted and he was panting slightly. Watson blinked slowly, eyes locked with Holmes'. Watson ran his tongue over his bottom lip and saw Holmes' eyes drop to track the movement.

"Holmes—" Watson started to say, but never finished. Holmes lifted his head and fitted his mouth against Watson's, hands flying to cup Watson's face, trying to pour his soul into him. Watson responded immediately, tongue delving into Holmes' mouth, tracing his teeth and running along Holmes' tongue.

Kissing Holmes was utterly unlike anything Watson had ever experienced. He was all rough and scratchy, jutting hips and hard bones and broad shoulders and ribs, hot hands and bites and nails scratching along his skin, raising the hair on the back of Watson's neck. Holmes was dark lightening on the horizon, sucking Watson down with him on his fiery suicide descent into the hard earth. Holmes pressed his knee between Watson's legs and Watson pulled away, gasping.

"Holmes," Watson whispered, eyes shut tight. "What—"

"Carpe diem, my good doctor. Carpe diem," Holmes whispered back at him, resting his forehead against Watson's.

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**Had to stop myself before this turned into something serious. ;) Ho-ho! Don't forget to review, please. My panda Artemis would be much obliged. He noms reviews.**


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